


It Was Supposed To Be Limited To 'Aesthetic Pleasure'

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Kink Bingo 2017 Works [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Sam Winchester, Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Felching, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jo Ships It, M/M, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters, Multi, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Smut, Stripper Sam, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017, Top Gabriel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 00:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12445806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: Perhaps the strip joint isn’t the most appropriate place to hang out every Saturday night, but as long as you’re with friends it’s not quite as pathetic, right?  At least that’s how Gabriel rationalizes it.  In reality, he and one of the dancers have been making eyes at each other for what’s going on months now, but Gabriel refuses to get too close because he doesn’t trust himself.What he doesn’t know, is that he already made an impactandgotten too close—now Sam is sick of waiting for him to make a move and bridge that gap again.  So Sam does it himself.  Whatever happened that blacked-out night must have been something amazing, because Gabriel’s world is turned upside down.  Lucky for Sam, Gabriel’s quick to adjust and up the ante.





	It Was Supposed To Be Limited To 'Aesthetic Pleasure'

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: Felching
> 
> So many thanks and lots of love to [GlitchedWings](https://idjitsaviors.tumblr.com/) for being a wonderful human, beta, and going strong with me! <3

If Gabriel was counting, there had been a damn long amount of foreplay.

…If you counted foreplay as being eye sex while you watched the man of your dreams grinding and wrapping himself around a strip pole, giving the most tantalizing preview of the way he fucked.  The first thing that captivated Gabriel had been the long view, the fact that this man, standing over six feet tall, not only had athletic abilities, but was capable of performing all the tricks the women could do, with some show-stopping extras.

That’s what had made Gabriel’s jaw drop mid-sentence the first time he had gone to the strip club.  He could remember that very first time, because he’d been rendered speechless, like the friend he had been meeting with wasn’t even there.

When he flashed back to lust-at-first-sight, it was a random choice to meet at _this_ club.

His friend, Meg, had just broken up with her girlfriend and they decided getting drunk and a lap dance from the hottest guy and gal they could find in the joint would make her feel better.  They’d gotten wasted, but while Gabriel shelled out the cash for double the private rooms (same cute chick and hot guy) for his bestie, he was completely taken by _this_ dancer.

And on that first night, the dancer had noticed Gabriel, too.

Not just noticed, but went out of his way to march to Gabriel’s side of the stage and give him a view of pure cocky, sweat-coated muscles and a chiseled jawline that could cut glass.  Jesus, from afar (deep down at least) Gabriel was hoping for a butter face.

Not…this.

The dancer was goddamn perfect and the cash started flying, rushing in time with the booze in his veins like friggin confetti.

Gabriel didn’t remember much about that first night, but he knew damn well that he’d cracked a joke and made the kid smile.  It lit up the room, but… after that, he never had the confidence to get so close again.

That by itself was unlike him.  Gabriel kept visiting—it was always on nights his perfect little gyrating masterpiece worked, but he kept a safe distance.  The strange out-of-character shyness didn’t bode well, so this was his routine safety net.

He’d go with friends, obviously never alone because that would not _only_ be pitiful, it would be dangerous.  Gabriel knew damn well that he could appreciate this beauty from afar, and he could look—but he couldn’t touch.

No matter how many times he closed his eyes at night, having memorized the chiseled planes of the dancer’s chest, the way he could roll his abs with the music and make them ripple, those strong thighs that would feel fucking perfect wrapped around his waist…Gabriel could get off in record time.  Especially picturing that perky, tight little ass bent over just for him, as he pounded into him and fucked him within an inch of his life…

“Gabe?” Charlie asked one night with her head tilted, “I know we’ve talked about this before, but this… is like, my third time coming here with you.  He _never_ stops eyeing you, dude.  Why haven’t you bought a dance yet?”

“Gabe refuses to pay for sex,” Meg leaned in with a sneer, mixing her drink with the pathetically small straws the bar offered.  They were waiting for their next round of shots when she explained, “It would bruise his ego.  He’s a player, think of his poor widdle feelings.  Even though they’ve been making goo-goo eyes at each other since I can remember.  God, for real though, always seems like he’s dedicating his night to _you_.”  She turned to Gabriel, who appeared pensive and asked, “Wanna get a closer table?”

“We’re fine here,” he smiled, as the topless waitress dropped off the shots.  
  
Before he could finish instructing: “Keep ‘em coming, darling,” she had another shot on her tray.  It was set in front of Gabriel, and his brows furrowed.  “Uh, I didn’t order this.”

“It’s from Sam,” ‘Jo,’ her nametag read, quipped with a grin.  “He saw you come in.  Always sees you come in.  And he wonders if you’re shy.”  She had spunk, left him with a thrown gauntlet and sashayed away.

“Woah!”  Charlie looked thrilled at the new development.  “Sam?  Dude, you just got a _real_ name.  Not a stripper name.  What the flip is holding you back?!”

“Seriously!” Meg burst out, but before the girls could get the best of him, Gabriel stopped them there.

“Fine!  Listen up!”  He snapped his fingers, demanding their attention.  “The first night, I was up there with him.  It was a random shift, not too many people were around but we were trying to unbreak Meg’s heart, right?”  Gabriel narrowed his eyes at both of them, individually, “So… I actually chatted with him, and he’s… smart.  Clever.  Gave me half a dance out on the floor for free.  But it _wasn’t_ okay—because the kid’s fucking perfect.  And what do we know about the lessons of life?   _Don’t_ fall for a stripper!”

Gabriel continued, noting this was both news to Charlie and Meg and he had their focus, finishing, “So, yeah.  Maybe it’s true, I can’t keep away from him.  But I limit myself to _aesthetic_ pleasure.  Anything else… I’d be a sinking ship.  You get it now?”

“Huh.”  Meg pursed her lips, but then she grinned impishly, “I don’t know.  A torrid, illicit love affair seems right up your alley, Gabriel.  I’ve been there before.  Still, the way he looks at you?”

“Meg,” he said with a dangerous edge to his voice, shutting her up the best way he knew how.

It worked.

Finally, he turned his focus to the stage, to see Sam on all fours, the smooth roll of his spine sending his pelvis all but rutting against the floor in time with the sensual pop song.  There was a bachelorette party cheering him on, throwing money that clung to his oiled skin, but despite the chaos Gabriel felt eyes on him.

 _'Sam’_ glanced across the room to where he knew Gabriel was, and Gabriel raised in a toast the shot that Sam had bought.  He tossed it back and immediately followed it up with his own.  Sam had yet to break his gaze as he smoothly rolled around to his back and began thrusting his hips up into the air—just enough for Gabriel’s sake—before he jumped back to his feet in a show of pure strength and slinked around to the pole.

Charlie whistled low and said, “Gabriel…can’t you at least aesthetically appreciate him up close?  I’ll buy you the dance, you don’t have to be desperate—”

“I’m with Char, I’d say _he’s_ desperate.  What the hell did you say to him when you met him that got him so hooked?” Meg asked with intrigue, and noticed that the waitress was approaching with another round.    
  
In a split-second decision, Meg kicked out the empty chair, which alarmed Jo, but she took it as a sign and sat down with piqued curiosity.

Jo spread the shots around the table, even having poured one for herself, and said, “Good.  I’m actually glad you pulled out a seat.  Sam was in a huff and pissed off, wondering if one of you were _his_ girlfriend?  But I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you two ladies are together.  Who are you, anyway?  I only know what I’ve heard from Sammy, which isn’t much.”

“Girlfriend?  Hah!” Meg was tickled by the thought, “No, no, the first time Gabriel came here, it was to help me get over _my_ ex.  I actually met Charlie here—she was enjoying the tits.”  She reached out and took Charlie’s hand.  “You solved the mystery.  But I have to wonder, why was this Sam dude pissed off?  Why hasn’t he made a move?  What’s going on with all this UST across the dance floor?”

With a sharp look, Jo studied Gabriel.  He felt like he was under a microscope, under investigation, and while both Charlie and Meg harassed him all the time, this blonde chick was much, _much_ more thorough.  But it raised a good point, why did his mystery man care?  And this was too good.  He wasn’t going to get his hopes up, because—

“You, _Gabriel_ , made a helluva impression on him.  And every time you’re in, he asks about you.  I can’t deal with this weird-ass pining anymore.  This doesn’t happen with customers.  And you—you’re not even the _normal_ customer!  You’re not up there cheering him on, throwin’ money, trying to get away with shit in the VIP lounges.  But it looks like you did something else.”  Jo tilted her head to the side, “Can I tell him you’ll meet up after he gets out?”

“Yes!” both Charlie and Meg shouted at the same time, but Gabriel was dumbstruck.

Before Jo could leave, he lashed out and grabbed her arm, which he retracted immediately because of said no-touch policy.  “I don’t understand.  Why?”

She rolled her eyes, drank the shot she had brought by herself and hummed, “You’re respectful.  Guess something you said resonated or really, really hit a kink on his list.”

Jo made the sliest, quickest escape known to mankind so she was able to tell Sam that, yes, they could meet up.  Gabriel couldn’t renege, as the knowledge was setting in.

“What the fuck—” he blurted out.  “What’s going on?!”

\---------------------

“Time to strike!” Jo announced backstage, after snatching a bottle of whiskey from the bartender and pushing her way towards Sam.  “Let’s get drinking in your dressing room!”

He was wide-eyed, fresh off the stage and ready to wipe off the makeup and baby oil.  Yet, so many things caught his attention.  He reached out and grabbed the whiskey, taking a pull as they shut the door behind him and he turned his full attention to Jo.

“You talked to him?  Neither of those girls are his girlfriend?  He knows that I want to come over?”  Sam asked, rapid-fire, as he half-assed his clean up.  What he needed was some liquid courage because he was about to make a move.  And it was a big one.

“Yeah, talked to the whole party,” Jo bragged smoothly.  “The girls are dating; they’re cute, sassy things.  He’s expecting something after work probably, but he doesn’t know that you had an early shift, so you’re not closing out,” she wiggled her eyebrows and then begged, “ _Please_ , tell me you have something cute to wear instead of your normal sweatpants and hoodie.”

Sam nodded, grabbing a pair of skinny jeans from his duffel and a v-neck shirt that was on the tighter side and began tugging them on.  “I know the days that he shows up.  I’ve been waiting for him to make a goddamn move.  Since he isn’t, I sure as hell will.”  He pulled on his leather jacket, fixed his hair in the mirror and turned back to grab the whiskey.

Jo’s eyes doubled in size as he chugged half the goddamn fifth.  “Woah!  Slow down, cowboy!”

“I need it.  I’ve been wanting him since the first time we talked.  I don’t get why nothing has happened, I’m gonna make it happen.”  His eyes were narrowed in determination as he made a beeline to the door.  He froze just outside and turned to Jo, “Make sure the table’s never dry?  I don’t know how this will go.  But if it’s anything thing like the first night, it’ll be…” he sighed heavily, “It’ll be awesome.”

She watched Sam leave, all hell-fire and ferocity.  While she still didn’t know the entirety of the story, she knew this guy had made an impact.  And _her_ Sam?  Who’d been her friend since God knows how long?  Didn’t show interest like this—it was a fact.  Oh, Gabriel was in for it.

But then again now that she thought about it, when she had been investigating Gabriel… he seemed to be one of a kind too.  This may either turn out being fireworks or explosives, depending on the way the introductions went.  She hoped for the best, because Sam had been waiting for this for so long.

He deserved a pay day.

\-------------------

The three were chatting animatedly about the new guy at work, hands were flying all over the place, they were cracking up—this new waitress filled their glasses for one round and the only warning Gabriel received was Charlie and Meg going dead silent.  He watched them suspiciously, before waving a hand in front of their faces, but then he realized they were staring at something.

Behind them.

Gabriel turned to look over his shoulder and had to crane this neck upward to even catch sight of the man, and, _holy hell,_ he had _not_ been prepared.

That smile.  The way he could still see that amazing body through the threadbare t-shirt that complimented his gorgeous hazel eyes.  His entire focus was on Gabriel, his disposition was tentative as he asked, “Is this seat taken?” right next to him, and very quickly, he fell into character.

Gabriel flashed a grin and pulled the chair out, stating, “Been holding it for you all night, gorgeous.  Now, a little bird named Jo told me that you were gonna swing by after you finished.  Is this my lucky day, and you snuck out early for us?”  He reached out and said, “I’m Gabriel, by the way.”

With a small burst of laughter, Sam shook his head and took his hand, but let it linger.  “I know who you are, Gabriel.  You’ve already introduced yourself.  Now I’m worried, because of how much else you blocked out from the first time we met?”

Jo was there, right in the nick of time with another round of shots as Charlie and Meg watched the show unfold with rapt attention, like it was a soap opera.  

Although, Meg did come to the rescue and patted Sam’s shoulder, telling him, “Hey, when you walk into your home and see a train being ran on your girlfriend of _four years_?  You need a good friend like Gabriel to distract you.  He was my saving grace, taking me here, boozing me up and making me forget.  Can blame him for being a big foggy on some of the details, since he wouldn’t let me drink alone.”

She leaned into Sam and whispered conspiratorially, “All I know, is your chemistry is off the damn charts.  So you tell him what he needs to know.  And then you get kinky, yeah?”

“Megan,” Gabriel tsked, “That’s no way to treat a gentleman.”

Jo passed out shots, and Sam took one instantly, the blonde forgoing her own to give him another.  “That’s something that I’ve always noticed and liked about you, Gabriel.  You’re here for the ambiance and Sam.  Strangely respectful for a strip club.”

Gabriel almost spat out his drink, but managed to save it last minute, as the stripper’s hand had turned their aborted handshake into a causal touch at the table.  He squeezed it and watched Gabriel with unabashed interest.

“Am I why you come?”  His voice was honest, curious.

And Gabriel’s mind went _straight_ into the gutter.

Why, yes.  Sam made him cum in the shower, into a wad of Kleenex in his bedroom, there was the one time he could barely make it into the car after a particularly amazing show and he jerked off in the parking garage—

How far should he be taking this?  Or how fast?  He decided with a happy medium.

“Oh Sammy, the girls already know this, but you’ve gotta think twice about how you phrase your questions,” he winked, but admitted openly, “Yeah.  You are why I visit this lovely establishment.  Is that a problem?”

Those words seemed to give Sam more confidence, and Gabriel could see the wheels turning as he glanced over—he didn’t want it to merely be a conversation that excluded the girls.  Sam didn’t want to alienate them either, he knew the pair was here before his arrival.  So he turned to the women, his hand falling from Gabriel’s hand to his thigh under the table, which felt downright hot even through the fabric of his pants.

“Aw, you guys should’ve forced him to buy a dance,” Sam leaned on his elbow and grinned at Charlie and Meg.  “I had to physically _corner_ a guy who comes to a strip club to see _me_.  I could’ve used a little back-up.”  It was all teasingly light, no accusations, but the squeeze on Gabriel’s thigh was beginning to do something.

“Oh, let me tell you, we all but dragged him a table closer this time, at least.”  Charlie sighed wistfully, “If we had chains, maybe.  I think there was one time someone _actually_ paid for it?!” she whipped her head to Meg for confirmation.

“Oh, yeah!  When Cas was out with us!  He was, quote, ‘Sick of the obscene sexual tension.’”  Meg turned to Sam and asked, “Ya got the money at least, right?”

His back went rigid, Gabriel could only feel it from their connection, which was soon broken as he retracted his hand.  “Wow.  You really went out of your way to avoid me,” he tilted his head.

“No, no, no, it wasn’t like _that_!” Charlie tried to interrupted, but Sam was already chugging his beer in frustration, “Gabriel’s… well, we were just having this conversation earlier.  He’s proud.  He doesn’t want to pay money for things he’d rather get on his own.”

Sam paused for a second, and thought aloud, “Does that mean I played right into your hands?”

Now that he was here, now that he was interested, there sure as hell wasn’t a way that Gabriel was letting the fucking object of all his desires take off.   _Hell_ fucking _no_.  Especially, because he was sweet, sexy yet adorable and more endearing by the moment.  This time, _he_ lashed out, his hand even higher than Sam’s was (one may consider it dangerously high) and he lightly raked his nails.

“Not at all.  You surprised the hell out of me, which doesn’t happen.  Don’t get offended by whatever the hell the chicks are saying.  Black and white facts?  Those should be quite _flattering_.  After all, you single-handedly brought in my business along with anywhere between a plus one and a plus ten.  I’d say you’re something damn special.”  He took the chance to lean in, his nose just for a second, brushing the shell of Sam’s ear so no one could hear them, “And I’d rather watch you from across the room with those gorgeous come-fuck-me eyes, than risk you faking it for a dance just because you’re being paid.  You see my dilemma?  Why I made my choice?”

Sam inhaled sharply, and when he retracted his eyes were focused on Gabriel’s lips.  “Y-yeah.  I’d take something genuine over the chance of someone acting, too.”

Noticing just where Sam was staring, Gabriel’s tongue swiped over his lips, and he asked at a normal volume, “So it was genuine?”

“ _Is_...Present tense.” Sam corrected which ignited a fire inside Gabriel, but just then there was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around.  “Yes?”

“Oh, Sam!  I’ve been waiting for you to get out _forever_!  You have to remember me, right?  I’m Becky!  We had that…” she wiggled her eyebrows and stroked her hand down the entire length of his arm, before repeating the motion, “ _Moment_ in our last VIP session.  I _know_ we did!  It was _so_ much more intense than the first ten!  I haven’t stopped thinking about you, I—”

Gabriel read ‘fanatic’ at first glance.  He also read Sam as ‘professional’ even though it was clear Sam was uncomfortable but was attempting to hide it.  The way the dancer was shifting in his seat but plastering on a forced smile, the way his eyes seemed to reflect frustration, though he wouldn’t say it aloud.  He wasn’t taking action because of that bullshit ‘the customer is always right’ and Gabriel knew that.  Well, he being a third party sprung into action because he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do.

“Becky, is it?  Could you do me a favor and get your hand the hell off my boyfriend?”  He asked in a jovial tone and batted his eyelashes.  “See, common sense is, you don’t touch people unless ya ask.  And you really, _really_ don’t wanna touch someone who belongs to someone else.  Sammy?  He’s _mine_.  If you try to pull any of this stalker shit again?  I don’t care if you’re a crazy bitch or not.  Doesn’t mean my friends and I tolerate disrespect.  Do I make myself clear?”

She stumbled back a step, looking wildly between Gabriel and Sam and shaking her head so hard it was sending her dirty blonde hair flying.  “You’re a liar!  Sam’s not gay, first of all!  And we have a connection, I’ll _never forget_ that moment, and—”

Gabriel skillfully cradled the back of Sam’s head, and grabbed a fistful of his jacket, hauling him into a kiss.  It was a-fucking-mazing how Sam just melted into him, kissed him hard without even a hiccup of hesitation, and in turn cupped Gabriel’s face with both his palms.

It was intense—it was _too intense_ for a first kiss, it was like they really were together… but that’s what they needed to show this psycho, right?  When it slowed down to something just barely tender and they parted, it was Sam who turned to her, pale as a ghost.

“Becky, you and I need to keep things professional.  If you can’t respect that, you won’t be allowed in the club.  If you can’t respect my relationship and my boyfriend, I stand behind anything he chooses to do.”  He glanced back to Gabriel with fondness and kissed his brow.  “Do you understand?”

There were giant tears beading up in her eyes as she staggered away, sniffing aggressively as to not breakdown right there.

Meg, Charlie and now Jo, who had returned with more booze, were wolf-whistling and applauding with, “About damn time!”

Gabriel’s eyes were alive with lust, still so close to Sam and he agreed, “Yeah.  That was pretty fucking hot.  Why didn’t we do this earlier?”

“Because… protocol makes it difficult…” Sam admitted, his body vibrating, because even that second of intimacy made him want more.

“How much more liquor do you need?” Jo asked directly, “No one’s getting whiskey dick, and you two need to get on with it.  I can keep these lovely ladies company.”  She huffed and snapped her fingers, “Hey!  Don’t fuck in here!”

Both men abruptly turned, and it was Sam who said, “Another shot for the road?”

Jo winked and hopped off to fill the order.

Meg was wearing a shit-eating grin when she said, “Knew it would work out one way or another.  Quite happy with these results.”  

Then Charlie instantly followed up with, “Nice job, getting the crazy out of the mix, Gabe.  If I didn’t know the full story, I’d totes think he was your boyfriend.  And that kiss?  Yesh!  Even I can appreciate something that hot!  Nice work, boys!”

Letting go of where they’d gripped one another, Sam admitted, “I haven’t been able to shake her.  I was about to get a restraining order.  I think you just saved me the court costs,” with a strange mix of joyous tones and completely aroused glances.  “And, damn, that was really… yeah.  The way you took her down and took care of it?”

Once more, Gabriel dropped to a hushed voice and said, “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.  I hope you know what you’re in for.  Because I plan on taking _very_ good care of you tonight,” and dared to trail his fingers over the zipper of Sam’s skinny jeans under the table, away from prying eyes.

Much to his delight, Sam was already half-hard, which made Gabriel raise an eyebrow and, keeping his voice hushed, said, “God, I’m going to take you apart.  Piece by piece.  I already have an idea about what you like.  Let’s just say, I’m damn good at it, too.”

The shots were shoved in front of them but their eyes were glued to each other’s from Gabriel’s promises.  After the final dose of liquor was in their systems, yeah, Gabriel was very buzzed and his confidence was through the roof.  It looked as though Sam was buzzed too, which was fantastic.

Gabriel hugged the girls, kissed their cheeks and did the same with Jo, since she was obviously important to Sam and if this went anywhere he’d be seeing a lot of her.  Even though it _was_ a bit awkward that her naked breasts were bouncing against his chest.

While saying goodbye to Jo, she whispered in his ear, “He’s wanted you a damn long time, Gabriel.  And I think something may have happened the first time you guys met.  _Please_.  Stay around for pillow talk, don’t ditch out?  Find out what happened.  Sam’s an amazing person, you don’t understand.  He’s not just a stripper, he has his reasons and he doesn’t get crushes.”

Gabriel nodded, taking in each bit.  Quite a few of the pieces surprised him, but he promised her, “I got it.  I want to know what I missed out on too.  I’ll be good.  After I’m done being a bad, bad boy.”

She slapped his arm and went about her business.  Gabriel turned to see Sam waiting.  Now, the only question was to walk to a hotel or go home?  Both of them seemed to think about it, since that set the tone of the evening.

In the end, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, Gabriel had the money, the hotel was right on the main block and they couldn’t get there fast enough.

\-------------------------

“This is… wow,” Sam looked around the hotel room for a brief second, mostly because he was astonished.

He’s never been to a room as nice as this, let alone a _suite_.  It was gorgeous, and momentarily the lust fueling his entire body was put on pause because he felt out of his element  He felt like he owed Gabriel or something, like he had to pay part of the bill—

“See something you like?” Gabriel asked as he turned on the bedside lamp, wondering if Sam would enjoy this more if he could see just where he was at.

Sam was so caught up in their surroundings, but Gabriel was not.  Gabriel was overflowing with sexual tension, he’d already seen most of Sam, but the one thing he had yet to witness, the one thing that (hopefully) this encounter would bring was something he’d been thinking about forever.

With an impish grin, Sam finally turned around and tangled his fingers in Gabriel’s hair.  “I see so many things I like.”

“Good,” Gabriel all but purred.  “Fuck, I’m not gonna lie.  I’ve dreamed about this.  Fantasized about this.  But you’ve gotta tell me if I’m crossing some kind of line, all right?  I don’t want to take advantage of you or make assumptions I just… fuck,” he cursed, his erection straining through his pants.  He unzipped and unbuttoned because it was killing him.  “I want you so fucking bad.  When I watch you, I think about all the things I can do to you.  That’s why I bring friends with me, because you’re too tempting, hell, my cock is already a giveaway.”

Sam’s breath was shaky with anticipation.  “I can't wait.  I wanna see what you’ve got.”  He reached out, not stopping to cup the bulge, but dive down beneath the boxers and wrap his hand around Gabriel cock.  “Holy fuck—Gabriel,” his eyes flashed up to meet his.  With a crooked grin, he ordered, “Do your worst.”

That was what broke him.

Gabriel didn’t bother with his own clothes, not yet.  He tore Sam’s hand away, even though the mere touch, the friction, was amazing—and he decided today he wouldn’t watch Sam pull his clothes off in front of an audience.  Gabriel was going to do it for him.

The instant Sam was naked and in his full glory, Gabriel’s mouth dropped and he demanded, “Do you know how perfect you are?”  Before he shoved Sam down to the mattress.  

He stole a single kiss, one that Sam tried to desperately follow, but Gabriel was too busy making one of his fantasies come true.  Lick every inch of muscle, tease his nipples into hardness, making Sam moan while he nipped at his inner thighs, dug his fingers into his hip bones but didn’t touch his cock.  Not yet.

It was delicious, throbbing and oozing precum, just as large as he would expect from Sam’s frame.  He briefly sucked the tip, but then a question sprung to mind that he had to ask.  “Have you been with men before?”

Sam was whimpering and writhing uncontrollably from the teasing, but he confirmed, “Yeah, yeah—I have been.  More than women.  Take your clothes off, Gabriel, please!”

It was so needy, so hungry, he had no other option than to follow the command.  But while he was doing it, Sam brought up something he hadn’t anticipated.

“It’s been a little while.  And I’ve been tested, I’m clean.  If you are… I really, _really_ wanna feel your cock,” it came out as a groan of pleasure, as he thought about it, just the concept.  “I wanna feel every drag, every inch of you shoved inside me.  And… just in case I was right, that you _did_ show up for me, I brought condoms and lube, but—” he was cut off as Gabriel pulled down his boxers—the last item of clothing.  “You’re beautiful…”  The words just came out.

Who knew if it was the booze, the time he’d spent waiting, praying that Gabriel had taken the plunge and wanted a private dance… there were so many factors.

Gabriel’s Cheshire-like grin gave him a prelude as he pinned Sam down and kissed the living hell out of him.  After he got that first taste?  Now that he was able to explore Sam’s body with his lips?  He needed more of this new intimacy.

He spoke between heated kisses, because he wanted exactly what Sam wanted.  “I’m clean, and I do trust you.   _God_ , I wanna feel all of you, too.”  Gabriel pulled away and said in a lust-drunk voice, “I’m not wasting a second of this hotel room.  I’m planning on taking you—over and over.  But right now, you gotta answer a question…”

“Anything,” Sam gasped into his mouth as their cocks began rutting together, “Tell me, Gabe.”

“I wanna cum inside you.  So fucking bad.  Will you let me?”  He gave Sam time to think about it, sucking a very light mark into his neck, one he knew could be covered up with stage makeup.

What he didn’t expect, was Sam not even hesitating to exclaim, “Holy shit, yes!  I was gonna ask, but I thought already pushing for barebacking may be enough.”  He reached down towards his discarded pants and pulled out the small, pocket-sized lube.  “Open me up, stretch me on your fingers.”

As Sam spread his legs, Gabriel’s thrill went through the roof, getting the lube freakin’ _everywhere_.  Fuck, he couldn’t believe this was happening.

Sam lifted his pelvis and told him, “I imagined it, too, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow, and it surprised the hell out of him when two fingers slid in with no resistance.  “Goddamn, did you finger yourself when you imagined it?” he repeated Sam’s words back to him with mischief.

“Mm,” Sam arched into the digits, looking for his sweet spot.  “I thought about you.  The things we talked about the first time.  The way you look at me.  I held onto hope that you’d grow a pair, buy a dance and we could get outta there.  Wanted you to fuck me.  Then I wanted to make sure I was ready, because I wanted it the second you made up your mind.”  He nodded to Gabriel and ordered, “Another finger.”

Gabriel couldn’t even begin to describe all the feelings, all the emotions and the mind-blowing feral need for this man underneath him.  In fact, instead of one finger, he opted for two—just to bait him and hear the noises Sam was capable of.

It was a choked groan, followed by the wild bucking of hips against the intrusion as he whimpered out, “Gabriel… hell yeah, let’s get this moving.”

A massive grin spread on his face, because the kid was responding beautifully.  Everything he did was downright stunning, and begging for cock was no exception.  “How do you want it, Sammy?”

He muffled a strangled gasp when Gabriel found his prostate, but Sam pushed through.  He grabbed Gabriel’s chin with sheer force of will, and focused—despite that utterly wrecked expression—saying on a sharp inhale, “We’ve got all night, right?  How about we start with you between my legs?  I want to get well acquainted with your lips.  Unless that’s too intimate for you.”

“No,” Gabriel continued rubbing the bundle of nerves, reducing the man into a writhing, sobbing, and begging mess.  “I think that sounds amazing.”

Just when he was about to coat his cock, Gabriel realized with all the intoxication that came with Sam and the liquor… he, himself, was still fully dressed.  Sure, he could whip out his dick and fuck glorified rug burns into the kid, but that probably wouldn’t look good on Sam for his job.  There had to be a rule somewhere about your body being a friggin temple when you were on stage working a pole...  
  
Goddammit!    
  
Gabriel growled to himself, not liking the interruption whatsoever.  He fell back and tore every last article off, flinging it at record-breaking speeds across the room.

When he turned back, Sam’s hands were tentatively floating in front of him.  He was speechless, besides forming the single word, “ _Yes_ —”

Luckily, Gabriel spoke the gobsmacked language, and snatched that lube up right away.  He wasted no time in hovering over this man, the one he’d been fantasizing about for months on end, and slicking his erection from base to tip.  Now, he had the astounding opportunity _to take_.  Sam took a chance, too—he reached up and pulled Gabriel down to his mouth, the open-mouthed and hot kisses both needy and fiery, urging him, _begging_ him.

Gabriel gave Sam exactly what he wanted.

With a hiss, Gabriel pushed into Sam’s body, no condom obstructing the feel of every inch, as Sam held onto him for dear life.    
  
Hell, he all but shouted, “Gabe!   _Fuck_ , your dick, you feel—” and then a snarl rumbled in his chest.  That was the last warning he received before Sam’s mouth clamped down and began sucking even hungrier marks into his flesh.

It caused Gabriel to buckle, slamming rough and sharp thrusts into Sam, which seemed to fuel him more.  Now, it had turned into an endless cycle of rough teeth and violent hips.

There was this need, the want to have more of each other even though they’d taken the final step to become one.  But, God, it felt like they wanted even more.  Gabriel began fucking in and out of Sam, grabbing handfuls of hair to guide him—kiss him with intent, when he wasn’t reciprocating and saying fuck it to leaving teeth marks on Sam’s chest—rules be damned.  It was insane, this manic need that exploded the second he sunk into Sam’s body.

And it didn’t stop.

No matter how fast he moved, how deeply he plunged into Sam’s tight, perfect ass, everything was in high gear, nothing even slowed for the briefest moment.  This chaos, it was beautiful.  It was about two people never being able to get enough of each other, even within the heat of coming together, and Gabriel fed right in.

Fuck, he didn’t know if he could go back to normal one night stands and hook-ups after this, Sam may have ruined him…

Pressing one of Sam’s hips into the bed with a bruising grip, just so he could slam in, he decided to say as much.  “Damn, did we waste too much time eye-fucking.  This is—” he tossed his head back as Sam deliberately squeezed his muscles around Gabriel’s cock, like a vice-grip, “ _Holy fuck_ —”

Sam was in shambles underneath him, he barely had the motivation to look haughty, but he did bite his lip.  “’S true.  Coulda been doing much more real-fucking.”  He continued to rock into the ferocious thrusts, both pliable to the rhythm and rebellious in the way he continued the escalation.  Sam was covered in sweat, precum _and_ marks—marks that Gabriel shouldn’t have been allowed to leave, as he demanded, “Cum inside me, Gabe!  I’m ready to blow, dammit!”

He launched up and off the bed to cup Gabriel’s face and kiss him for all he was worth.

The snapped order, the lack of oxygen, this beast that wasn’t just a sexy, horny stripper but a damn near perfect human needing him like this, fuck!  A few more high-intensity thrusts and Gabriel was grunting out, grabbing Sam’s cock and making sure to force him into his own orgasm because Gabriel couldn’t hold off.  Sam shivered and held onto Gabriel with all his strength as he painted their bodies and everything was… perfect.  Just fucking perfect.

Sam was heaving his breaths, off in another world, and it tickled Gabriel.    
  
With a secret grin, Gabriel wanted to push some boundaries, small ones, just to see how the kid would respond.  Sam was still a bit dazed when Gabriel took it upon himself to clean every inch of those rock-hard abs and his softening cock with his mouth.  Even though he whimpered when Gabriel licked off the cum from his dick, his attention was completely focused, his head clear, at that point on.

“God, that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is,” Sam reached out, clearly wanting some cuddle time.

Gabriel was wearing a shark-like smirk when he tsked, “I’m not done with clean-up, gorgeous.”

Sam’s brows scrunched together on his forehead, and then his eyes doubled in size as Gabriel unceremoniously rolled him over and hauled his ass in the air.  “G-Gabriel!” he sounded shocked, like he was about to protest, but there was already cum leaking down between his cheeks and down his thighs.

Gabriel’s tongue flattened and lapped up the cum along the long planes of Sam’s legs, and he was addicted to the flabbergasted noises coming from the stripper.  It was interesting, he thought in his head, his tongue circling Sam’s thoroughly abused and puckered hole, how oddly innocent he truly was.

“First time, Sammy?” Gabriel had to tease him, as he spread his cheeks and cum began leaking out.

He was ready, instantly catching it on his tongue and swallowing it on down, but the best part were the strangled noises, the literal fight as Sam tried to stay still—grappling at the covers.  Oh, and the partially-worded protests, Sam’s whimpers and whines.    
  
Gabriel’s tongue narrowed and dove beyond the clenching rim of muscles.  Sam was used and sore from the drag of his cock, he knew that damn well from the puffing around his hole, which was why this delighted Gabriel so much.  He licked Sam from the inside with zeal, tasting his own cum when Sam finally, _finally_ could form words.

“I-I’ve gotten rimjobs, nothing—Oh, _God_!  Not this, never this, _holy shit_ , Gabriel!”  He was hypersensitive after his orgasm, and Gabriel took a certain amount of joy cleaning up both his delicate cock and hole, watching each and every jolt take control.

Once he was fully satisfied he’d taken care of the load he’d blown inside Sam, he crawled back up the bed to see the Sam quivering and baffled.    
  
Gabriel offered, “Easiest kind of clean up, and I don’t have to leave bed,” he trailed a finger down Sam’s chest and outlined one of the marks, “And any excuse to get my mouth on you, I’ll take.  Plus, you’re squeaky clean and ready for the next guy!”

Sam snatched up his hand from where it roamed and glared, “Gabriel, there is no next guy.  That better be a bad joke.”

“Okay…” he drew the words out, “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to assume.  Just most of the strippers I know, make a side of cash—”

“That’s not me!  We talked about this!” Sam was trying to keep his voice even, he really was.  “I told you, you’re special.  I’d never let someone eat their cum out of my ass if they weren’t.”  Even though that didn’t _sound_ particularly romantic, the urgency in his voice told Gabriel that it meant something.

“You liked it,” Gabriel purred, leaning in closer and kissing him.  Now seemed to be a good time to bring up whatever he was forgetting from their first meeting, too…

Sam sighed and allowed it.  The way he moved his lips was actually sensual and sweet, when he pulled away he clucked his tongue, “I can taste you.  I like _that_ part.”

“Knew you would,” he flashed a winning smile.  “Sam.  On a serious note, I hate to be a dick but… you know how Meg backed me up on the first time we met?  I really want you to fill in those blanks for me.  It’s important, I’m gathering.”  He pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead, brushing away any errant hairs.  “’Cause I’m gonna throw this out there and you can take it or leave it: I think we’ve got something.  Out of this world chemistry, compatibility, it’s there.  And… I _need_ to know what happened, day one.”

With a laugh and a nod, Sam inched closer to Gabriel, just to tangle their legs together as they cooled down atop the sheets.  They were laying on their sides, studying one another and he was wearing a soft smile.  “You were drunk.  And I have no idea how you did it, probably because it was afternoon on a week day, but we found a corner of the stage where the music was the quietest.”

Gabriel propped himself up, watching Sam hum fondly at the memory as he himself waited on bated breath.  “Did I trick you into it?”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled, “But it wasn’t a bad request.  Most of the time, I get ‘can I give you a blowjob,’ not, ‘hey, can we chat where we can actually hear each other.’  Obviously, I was intrigued.”

“One of my better traits,” he winked, and couldn’t keep his hands to himself.  Gabriel began tracing shapes along the lengths of Sam’s arms, so comfortable he could fall asleep—but he needed to hear this.

“I’d say it was,” Sam mused a loud.  “Anyway, you gave me couple hundreds.  Which meant I was yours for as long as you were there.  But when I danced, we chatted.  Eventually, you got it out of me that this… was temporary.  But you couldn’t understand why the fuck I was working afternoons on a week day.”

“With that body and those moves?” Gabriel agreed instantly, “That was something I didn’t get either, that‘s when the B-Team‘s on stage.  But the next time I found you, it was Friday and Saturday nights.  What made the switch happen?”

“You did.”  His eyes were bright and imploring.

Gabriel harshly jerked back with a blurted, “What?  The hell does _that_ mean?”

“I told you, I was making money to pay off student loans.  I couldn’t even think about getting a damn job that far in debt.  You pointed out I’d be getting back to my real job a whole helluva lot faster if I was working the night shift on weekends.”  Sam pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s forehead, “None of this ringing a bell?”

“Nope.”  He popped the ’p,’ staring on disbelief because it had been a _damn_ long time since he’d blacked out like this!  “But continue, it all makes sense and I’m dying for the conclusion.”  
  
“I’m sure you are,” Sam chuckled and shook his head.  “Heh, I told you that I had stage fright.  You stubbornly insisted that I didn’t.  I got pissed off, but you tried to show me that the entire time we’d been talking about life?  Because of the cash you’d given me?  I was still dancing, I didn’t even realize it.  I mean, it was different, I said it didn’t count.  Because it was _you_ and I was comfortable…but you taught me some tricks, we joked around like it was a date and I was seducing you.  But you gave me material on lots of other ways that I could overcome my fear, that I _was_ good enough.  And reminded me that the sooner I was done, the sooner I wouldn’t have to worry about the crowds.”

Sam paused, reaching out to grab Gabriel’s hand and deliberately emphasized, “You _also_ said whenever you were there, we could pretend it was another date.  Except, you never talked to me again,” he rolled his eyes heavily.  “So there’s that.”

Gabriel’s eyes lit up with the light bulb.  “That’s why you watched me.  Because it helped with your stage fright and you felt safe,” he realized, suddenly feeling like a dick for forgetting, because he’d hurt as much as he aided.  “Here I thought I was just that tempting.”

“You are.”  Sam was wearing a crooked grin when he teased, “When you were drunk, you also made a declaration, you know.”

Gabriel’s free hand immediately slapped himself in the face.  That _never_ meant anything good.  He was mentally preparing himself for the embarrassment.  Fuckin’ a!

Sam pried his hand away, wicked smile painted on his face as Gabriel’s amber eyes looked like one of a kicked puppy.  “You and your drunk ass proclaimed the moment I made my cash, the _second_ I stopped stripping, you ‘were gonna make an honest man out of me.’  Since, I guess, you wanted me to make money however I could.  And you’ve got a screw loose in your head that automatically equates stripping to prostitution.”  For as gleeful as Sam looked before, the last statement left him with a frown.

Gabriel’s jaw had dropped because… well, that kind of sounded like him.  Shit, they must have had a hell of a bonding experience and he was pissed he couldn’t remember it!  So he made a choice, right here and now.

“You’re right.  You are too much of a good boy, Sammy,” Gabriel cooed, pulled Sam closer and ghosting his lips over his neck.  “I suppose I’m the jaded one, aren’t I?  I’m sorry for making that assumption.”  He playfully grazed the skin with his teeth, just enough to leave a red mark and draw a sigh from Sam.  “How close are you to paying off those debts?”

He grabbed Gabriel’s chin and forced him to focus, “Ever since I followed your advice, switched to nights, I’m getting there.  Maybe a few more months, if I keep my full time schedule up.  Why?  Are you thinking your blacked-out confession is a good buzzed confession?”

Gabriel swatted Sam’s hand away and kissed him like he _meant it_ —with every ounce of emotion he could push through his lips.  Hell, he had no idea he had such an effect on the kid’s life and Sam was just… so much more than what he’d hoped for.  He ended up on top of him, grasping for ways to wrap their arms around each other, just making out for the sake of it.

Eventually, they had to pull apart and Gabriel grinned widely, asking Sam, “What do you think about moving up the timeline?”

Sam squinted in confusion, “What timeline are you…wait.  You don’t mean—”

“I happened to like the taste that I got back in the club.  It felt right.  Protecting you, telling the creepers off so you don’t get in trouble and announcing you’re _my_ boyfriend.”  He cupped Sam’s cheek and flicked a tongue across his top lip, since his jaw was hanging open.  “Whatcha say to me making an honest man out of you?”

“Are you sure…?  You’re not fucking around with me?” Sam was speaking the words like it was too good to be true.

“No fuckery.  Just you and me.  Celebrating in this bed all night long.  Unless that’s a problem with you…” he tried to keep things light, because he was putting himself out there.  Asking the hottest man he’d ever known to be in a monogamous relationship with him, and it was mildly _terrifying_.

But Sam lit up like a goddamn firework.  “Yes.  Yes!”  He tackled Gabriel and rolled them both over again.  “Shit, I wish I’d just broken the ice before.  I wish I’d have known you’d forgotten.  But it doesn’t matter, because it’s happening now.  And,” he stealthily sucked a bruise against Gabriel’s collarbone, “I love the idea of an all-night celebration.  Knowing that…does things to me.”

“Ditto.” Gabriel was probably shining as brilliant as the other man.  “Whatcha say we get started on the rest of the night?”

With a flash of lust overwhelming his expression, Sam could only nod before he descended upon his new boyfriend.  Tonight would be a night to remember—and the best part?  Gabriel wouldn’t forget a damn detail about it this time; Sam wouldn’t let him.  

He’d have to keep close watch on liquor plus Gabriel and major life events, because he had a penchant for blackouts and Sam had a predisposition for being shy and waiting too long.  They knew their downfalls now, and they’d both fix those downfall, all while thanking God tonight finally happened.  Not another moment was going to pass them by—life started right here and now.


End file.
